Ten things to remember
by Miia Swann
Summary: "Do you even remember who you really are Dean? You lie all the time, to everyone you meet, to me and sam, to yourself...and sometimes..sometimes I wonder if you have forgotten…" The story of how his angel's question bothered Dean into his sappiest midnight confession. [established destiel]


**A/n : Standard disclaimers apply. Established Destiel. **

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_"Do you even remember who you really are Dean?"_

The words echoed in the hunter's head as he stared up at the ceiling of another non descript motel in another no name town. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing once towards his left to see Sam sleeping peacefully before sitting up on his bed in a rustle of nylon.

_ "You. the person you really are. You lie all the time, to everyone you meet, to me and sam, to yourself...and sometimes..sometimes i wonder if you have forgotten…"_

He could hear them as if the angel was whispering it into his ear right that moment, he could remember the pity and sadness that had filled those blue eyes at the question. And he hadn't been able to see or think of anything else for the past three weeks. Cas was Cas of course, he had spoken words that pierced the very core of the hunter and then never even mentioned it again, gone back to routine, leaving Dean to fidget and suffocate under his own consciousness.

With a deep breath, Dean stood up decisively. Five minutes of floundering around in the dark for the rest of his clothes later, he grabbed his keys and slipped outside as quietly as he could. His boots dragged along the asphalt, one last moment of wavering resolve before he steeled himself and pulled the door to his baby open and slid into the drivers seat.

"Cas?" Dean called, pausing for only a fraction of a second before hurriedly continuing "Don't fly in..."

He could picture the angel tilting his head to the patented angle at the odd request but Dean really doubted he could get the words out if there was an actual person next to him.

"Just... Just keep your ears on alright?" He said hesitantly "Just listen"

His hands grabbed at the steering wheel, caressing the leather covering it, allowing it to anchor him as he tried to find the right words.

"I was around 14 when I taught myself to play the guitar..." He admitted, his mind returning to the deserted school music room. He remembered having to wait for Sam to finish his extra hours with the mathletes and finding an old abandoned guitar...

"I loved my dad, love Sammy even more but they are far too alike. I've always known that and - and when they were too demanding, when I felt strung too tight, i'd make some lame ass excuse to dad, or if it was just sammy and me, it would be easier, he'll not even notice I was gone...So i'll slip away..." Dean took a moment, thinking of the last time he had done it, seemingly life times ago.

"And if I can manage it, I get a stolen guitar, take my baby, find some field under the stars, sit around and make up songs." He said and the very thought made him smile. He wasn't brilliant at song writing or even playing the guitar. He was hardly the best singer either...but every song he had ever made up had been from the heart and admitting sentiments through the simple songs he made up worked for him.

"I'll always leave guitar there when the night is over though, and i'll never write down the songs, never go back to the same field...because they were a part of some ritual that would get tainted if I brought it back to my real life..." He paused again before thoughtfully adding "I mostly like to do that around full moons cuz the night is just that much brighter and the stars seem to understand the song better..."

His hands moved away from the steering wheel, momentarily imagining the way it felt to actually hold the instrument and his eyes closed on their own accord, thoughts from simpler days filling his head for a few minutes before he reigned them all in and pushed forward.

"Sam doesn't know why I kept taking all the crap from dad and I can never tell him." He mumbled, stopping again to remember all the times his brother questioned his tolerance for their father.

"But, when I was 3, it was the first time I knew mom and dad were fighting. She came crying to me and asked me if dad loved her. I said yes, yes because no one can possibly not love her. So dad loved her, I believed it" He remembered that day so clearly, the way she had cried as she appealed to him. She had looked so sad but his answer had made her smile and God, did he remember that smile.

"And she said as long as he loved her, she could forgive everything else. She said, if he loved her, she'd be happy no matter what.. Then she died" Dean swallowed hard, the words choking him as his hands clenched the seat tight

"After that dad became… became this person I didn't know, but he loved mom. Everyone else will tell you his whole life was about revenge, grief and dealing with her loss. But to me, it was about his love for her. And wherever she is, it'll make her happy. And she'll forgive everything else. Thats why I always did too..."

His mind was assaulted by so many times when his dad had failed him, all the times he had taken it without a word of complaint. All those times he had forgiven his father...Until John's last, single unforgivable act. His mother wouldn't forgive him for asking Dean to kill Sammy, so no, he couldn't forgive that either...But again, everything else, being raised as a hunter especially...

"I hate hunters." His voice hardened again "They are all the same; people who lost someone they loved, didn't know how to move on with their lives and instead chose to become depressed alcoholic broken obsessed men...sure they do some good along the way, but there's...they are not...pure." And now he was one of them, truly as depressed and alcoholic and broken... but he wouldn't think of it...

"And I never wanted to be one of them. Everyone thinks I love it. Truth is, I just can't walk away. No matter how much I try. I get to the car, ready to drive away and then I think of a four year old somewhere, sitting outside in the cold night, wanting to ask where his mom was, but knowing. Wanting to ask if she'll come back but not daring to because it'll mean he's right and she's gone..." And the kid would never be the same and no one would know a whole childhood had died with the burning mother

"And then I think of that kid growing up, He never asked. Because he didn't have to, people told him crap anyway." His voice changed tones, became mocking "Angels took her , she's in a better place, she's always there, he just needs to believe." Foolish were the people who asked a child to believe in his own mother. In a burst of anger, he punched the seat and felt his shoulders tremble with the weight of the words.

"But he'll never know why his mother was not worth saving, never understand why no one tried. And I tell myself when I can answer that kid, when I can tell him one thing that will make him forgive me for not trying, I will quit hunting. But I can't. I can't tell him about crappy motels and moving too much...they aren't even reasons. So I'll try instead. and I'll keep trying even if no one else does. I'll try for the sake of some four year old out there" There was resolve in the words, promises of old being renewed.

"In any case, that was me" Dean said abruptly, shoving down his emotions with a brutal force. He couldn't let them wear him out like this, he still had to get through with everything else...

"Now? I like cars. I like knowing I can still fix something up . I know I can build them up from scratch and then just as easily let go." Instinct made him run his hand across the surface of the dash, his baby... the one thing that never failed him. One thing that meant almost as much as..

"Some nights when Sam's asleep, I still sing hey jude just like when he was a baby and he never knows it, but he smiles and relaxes. And just for a while, nothing has changed. He's Sammy again." He whispered softly, a tug at his heartstring telling him, _Sammy_ should still be alive, happy and innocent and carefree...not this burdened, guilt ridden Sam...

"I always find excuses to drive past parks when the kids are out and the sun shines. I love it there. Its the one good I believe in. Everything else is just random chaotic evil that is ugly and out for blood." That confession he supposed was the most obvious one, but it was still true.

"But thats me as I am" He gave a light shrug, almost as if to say, there really is nothing more to his life before continuing "If I make it out alive out of all this and there's a future for any of us, there's three things i'm sure of."

Dean relaxed now, leaning back against his seat. Grateful that he was almost at the end of this long self inflicted chick flick moment. He held up three fingers, ready to tick them off as he began.

"You'll be a proper angel. Back in heaven for good. No being the black sheep of the family. Because they've got to see someday that you are what an angel is supposed to be. With a heart and goodness. With light and grace and purity. so you'll be an angel." He said with conviction.

"Sammy will have that life he wants so badly. I don't understand why he never feels right anywhere or why he tries so hard but he'll get his shot at normal and hopefully it'll work out. with a white picket fence and a girlfriend and a dog. Apple pie life." yet another thing he believed in with everything he was.

"And i'll be on my baby, in some field under the stars, some beer and a stolen guitar... but Thats it. That's Dean Winchester." He stopped, this time reviewing his grand confession one last time before nodding with satisfaction. He had done it.

"So to answer your question. I am me. I might lie too much and pretend like none of it is true, but I'm still me" He said honestly

"I always will be" That statement however wasn't as confident as the other ones and hastily, he made a last moment addition.

"But if i'm not, then I want you to remember these ten things. If I forget, at least I can trust you to remember." He said, a sudden irrational fear of forgetting himself overtaking everything else.

"You got that Cas? You can't forget." He stressed.

"Dean, I will remember for eternity" The words made him jump as Castiel arrived in the seat next to him.

The angel was wearing a pleased smile, his electric eyes soft and overflowing with so much love, that even after the sappy confession, Dean felt like he had to look away.

"Good" He muttered, picking on a stitch in his shirt.

"But Dean, you only told me nine things" Castiel prodded after a few moments of silence.

The hunter smiled at that, moss green eyes clear and his voice strong as he gave away the most important ingredient that made up Dean Winchester.

"I love you. When I was a kid that believed in angels, I loved you for watching over me. Its you, because you are the only one I will consider a true angel. Now, when you smile, when you look at me with eyes that aren't supposed to be so blue and even when you are infuriating and cryptic and have a stick up your ass. I love you. And in the future, if i'm alive, then you can sit in your heaven and maybe listen to a song about you. Because i'll still love you." Dean finished.

Castiel's radiant smile was of course worth being a chick and spilling his guts.

"And I love you" The angel breathed as he pulled him down for a chaste kiss "Thank you"

Dean wrapped his arm around Cas's waist and pulled him flush against him, whispering softly into his ear.

"Also, just so we are clear, that's your lifetime quota of chick flick moments"


End file.
